When You're Really Married!

You know you're really married when your spouse and you start to resemble each other in so many different ways!

You know you're really married when you look back through the years and think, "I've become him and he's become me!"  Aaaaak!  That's scary!

Example:  You know you're really married when you think about those first married years, and hubby snored like a siren all night long.  You had a hard time sleeping most nights between the snorts and grumbles.  But then you know you're really married when hubby doesn't snore anymore, but he says that you're keeping him up nights, because, yes, you snore!  Aaaaak!  That's scary!

Another example:  You know you're really married when you think of those early years of wedded bliss, and he was always hot!  "It's hot in here," he'd say as he wiped his sweaty brow!  Meanwhile, I would be covered with three blankets and could hear my teeth chatter!  Now, I can't seem to get rid of the internal heat while hubby curls up under a wool blanket and says, "Do you really need that air conditioner on?  I'm freezing!"  Aaaak!  That's scary!

One more example:  You know you're really married when you used to wake up at the least little peep from your child stirring in the other room.  Or perhaps they gently call out to you in the middle of the night, and you pop up out of bed then rush to their side.  Now, I'll ask hubby, "Did you hear the boy come in last night? I didn't hear him come in.  I must have been sleeping like a log."  Hubby will tell me the time to the exact minute that the boy got home, and say, "Didn't you hear me talking to him while he stood in the doorway of our bedroom?"  NO!   Aaaak!  That's scary!


That's why I think you can tell when you're really married!  When he's become you, and you've become him!  Aaaak!  That's scary!   

How Many Hours are in a Day?

I'd say there are exactly 3 hours in each day!  Whatt???  That's what I feel like on those days that I rush to work, work all day, and come home.  I rush in the door, and think to myself, "Peace!  I have 5 whole minutes to relax!"

Wrong!  Those pesky phone salesmen must have my house staked out, because typically five minutes after walking in the door the phone rings!  I think to myself, "Nice, this must be my BFF, B; or maybe it's my mom."

Wrong again!  An automated voice comes through the telephone stating, "We are not selling anything....we want...."  I usually don't know what they really want, because I hang up!  Just like that!  I'm not even remotely curious as to what they wanted, and that's saying a lot, because I'm usually a very curious person!

Then I rush into the living room, kick my shoes off, stretch my feet out for what I think is going to be about 3 minutes (two of my five minutes were eaten up by answering the phone, then walking away grumbling about it), when suddenly....my son walks into the door from work and says, "Hey Mom!  I'm in a hurry!  The guys and I are going fishing!  What's for dinner?"

Well, need I tell you there go my remaining three minutes out the window!

So I get up fix dinner, then I realize that I really need to do a load of laundry.  Then it's time to eat dinner, wash those dishes, then back to the laundry.  Oh yeah!  The bathroom could use a good scrubbing, and the counter needs to be cleaned of the debris that's hanging out on it!  Next thing I know, it's well getting near my bedtime!  Off to the shower I go.....dry my hair, put my jamies on, and think, "Okay, I must have 5 minutes of peace and quiet!"

When suddenly the boy bursts through the door and exclaims, "Hey MOM!  I caught 5 bass, I'm going to clean them now!"

Okay, son, just be sure to clean up your mess when you're done!

When he suddenly has a great idea!  "Hey MOM!  Could you take some pictures of me filleting a fish for my blog."

It's 10:30 p.m!  I'm dog tired, but I love my son!

Go check it out on his blog!  Click Here!

The Boys Went Fishing!

First I'd like to say:


"Dear Maybe I'll Blog, Maybe I Won't,

I'm so sorry that I have recently neglected you!  I've been very busy lately, but it is with great pleasure that I return to you dear Google Blogger!  I've recently fought a battle with Wordpess, and it wasn't pretty!  It's such a comfort to come back to the familiar and user friendly Blogger for awhile!

Thank you,
Your dear friend, Laurie"

Okay, so without further ado, let's turn to the topic of "The Boys Went Fishing!"

My son is an avid fisherman, and he also likes to hunt.  Right now it's bass season in our little section of the world, and you can only guess what he's been up to?  Right?  Well, of course...fishing!

Hubby doesn't always have the opportunity, time, or energy to fish as frequent as my son, but when the boy was little his daddy took him fishing often!  Now that the boy is nearing his 21st birthday, he can go alone, and daddy doesn't always go with him.  A few weeks ago, they did get themselves out to Otter Lake, and enjoyed bass fishing together.

They were so proud of their catch:

Six Bass on a Stringer

I bet you all figure we had bass for dinner!  Incorrect!  My son is going  to be living in an apartment with his buddy when he returns to college.  They both are stashing their 'catches' in the freezer, so they can eat for free all school year!

I'll let you all know how that turns out in the fall!

One more thing:  My son has a new blog that I want to promote!  Go check it out!  Click Here!

Write a Pretty Email!

That's what I told him to do~!  Yup!  I said, "Boy, you need to write a pretty email!"  So he did!  He saved me mucho mullah, and I'm proud of him.

When your kids go to college they learn way more than you ever bargain.  For instance, my son knows how to put on the charm, smile, lean over to kiss my cheek, and say, "I love you, mom" in a very special way that gets me to grinning, then I kiss him back and say, "How much is it going to cost me now?"

Sound pretty mushy for a 20 year old, but it certainly catches at my heart strings when he does it, even if I know it means I'll most likely be cracking my wallet open!

My son has also learned how to scream at the top of his lungs, "You IDIOT!  Don't do that!"  Okay, he doesn't scream at me like that, but he's told me that he's had to use this particular tactic on his roommates this semester in the wonderful realm of dorm life!  All the while, he's puffing out his chest like a proud rooster, of course, and trying to make his not quite 5 foot 9 inch frame look more like 6' 10".

But one thing that I'm especially proud of him for is his way of writing what I call a "pretty email."  While fighting off drunken roommates, while knocking out computer hackers, while taking College Biology (with lab class) and College Chemistry (with lab class) all in one semester, while being obnoxious (to I don't know who) while I'm talking to him on the phone this semester - he learned to write a "pretty email."

During the semester he had voiced to me his displeasure at the uncleanliness of his roommates.  This is coming from a boy who showers 2 - 3 times per day at least.  Although he's kind of messy when it comes to clothes, meaning he can be standing 6 inches from the clothes hamper, but somehow his most recent outfit ends up on the floor.  He also spills coffee everywhere he goes.  When I want to know where the boy is, I just follow the spilled coffee trail.

The other day he received a letter from the college that stated he and his roommates were responsible for the damage left in their dorm room.  It didn't sound too good - one stained couch, two torn couches, and a dirty sink.  Sigh!  I figured this was going to cost me a pretty penny, and I wasn't pleased.  He told me that he certainly wasn't responsible for all those damages.

In very tiny writing at the bottom of the letter, it stated if you wanted to dispute the charges that were most likely to be charged, you needed to write an email to a certain lady in residential housing.  After the boy explained how he wasn't responsible for all those damages, I told him to write a pretty email.  So he did!

I'm sure the head of residential housing has heard every excuse in the book through the years, but I told the boy to use his charm!

He received an email about 30 minutes later from the residential housing lady stating that she typically didn't waive housing damages upon the statements made by one single student.  She usually liked to have others in the room back up their statements.  But she said that she was so pleased with his response to her letter that she waived his fees for damages.  She told him to have a great summer too!

How in the world did I know he could write a "pretty email" like that?  Well, truth be told, when I was upset with him this year, I'd email him, and I always received a "pretty email" in reply:)

That education that is putting a hole in my pocket is sure paying off!  

Check Up and Update on College Life!

My mother has been home for three whole weeks tomorrow.  She's been a very good girl, and the respiratory doctor told her that her progress was excellent!  Yippppeee!  God is so faithful! 

She's going to see the rheumatologist on Friday morning due to the fact that the doctor believes her double pneumonia is linked to the Lupus. 

The boy called last night.  He loves his new campus.  He loves the food.  He loves his Chemistry professor.  He told me he's probably the best professor he's ever had. 

He has an extremely tough course load this semester, but he's determined to do his best.

He's taking College Chemistry, College Biology and some level of College Math.  He has two evenings that he has labs (one for Chemistry, one for Biology).  He told me he spent his whole weekend studying.  That's good!

So life is getting back to more 'normal' whatever that might be!

My mom and I have started a bible study together as she hasn't been able to get to church (she's supposed to avoid large crowds), but she's thinking she might go to church this Sunday, but no hugging!  Her and I have become huge germaphobics recently!  We carry antibiotic lotion in our purses, I have it in my desk drawer at work; I even keep it in the car!

Mom and I have also started crocheting shawls for the elderly in nursing homes.  It's a program through church, and we're really enjoying it.  I go over to mom's house every day after work and we sit and crochet and talk for about an hour, then I come home and start dinner. 

My days are long, and I haven't had much time for blogging, but we are all doing well! 

Growing Up Is Hard To Do!

I'm one year shy of hitting the 1/2 century mark, and even I find growing up is hard to do!

But the boy, well, he's just 20 years old - and I admit that growing up is so hard to do at that age.  But they gotta do it!

My son transferred to Brockport State College this January.  It's a whole different world for him.  Buffalo is big - really big.  Buffalo State was okay, but I think he's going to like Brockport, oh so much better.

The first week of attending Brockport had it's touch and go moments.  It's a new campus, new roommates (more about them later), and it's a small town compared to the big city of Buffalo.

The first night we dropped him off around 5:00 p.m.  He waited until after 9:00 p.m. to unpack, as his roommate (sharing the one very tiny bedroom within the suite of 6 boys), didn't come back to the dorm until then.  Bryce had wanted to unpack before then, but when he opened all the dresser drawers, they were full.  Huh?  Come to find out the student that had been in the room last semester had left mid-semester, so the remaining student had kind of spread out his stuff to encompass the entire room.  Guess he didn't think to prepare for my son's arrival until 9:00 p.m. the night before classes started.

So instead of unpacking, getting dinner, and checking out campus to find out where all his classes were the next day, the boy sat in the room and waited, and waited, and waited for said roommate to return from Band practice.  Yes, ehart, he's a band member.  Apparently Bryce isn't sure what instrument he plays, but he knows that he's in the band.  Can you tell Bryce wasn't much interested in asking him his instrument when he returned at 9:00?

Then Bryce said that 10 minutes after arriving, another suitemate asked him to go and partake in some 'extra-curricular' activity that Bryce wanted no part of.  Can you believe he asked him to go do that  just 10 minutes after he arrived????  I can!  Colleges are full of that kind of thing. 

Another of his suitemates is from the Ukraine.  He has a bad liver.  Bryce told me that "they have no drinking age over there, so he's been drinking since he was 4 years old, and now he has a bad liver."

The first day of classes, I received a few phone calls at work.  Each class the boy went to he reported to me immediately following to let me know the cost of the textbook.  Did you know that the book, workbook, lab book, and internet OWL (something like Angel, but costs $50) for College Chemistry cost almost $500!!!

The College Math book bought 'used' only cost $125!!  He called in a panic and said, "Mom, books for 2 classes already cost me more than a whole semester of books at Buff State!"  He actually shrieked this to me over the phone while I was working.  If you knew my son, you'd know that he typically never shrieks!

I told him to relax, relax, relax, because I could (if I knew the money was going for books) deposit some money into his bank account back here at home.  He's very independent and didn't like the idea (doncha love him?), but I convinced him it would be all right!

Now, I haven't heard from him since last week, so I'm thinking he's getting it all figured out!  Right?!  I hope so!  


Can I just say this:  Growing up is hard to do, AND it's going to be a loooooong semester!

Back to a New School Home!

After church today, we are taking my 20-year old son back to college - well, not the college that he went to for 1 1/2 years, but the 'new' college.

He's transferring to a new school, and I like several things about this 'new' school:

It's closer (by over an hour when traveling both ways).

It's smaller.

It's not in the big, evil, mean city.

It's in a small Podunk town, which is what he's more used to.

He's has two great Christian buddies that go to college there too.

There are 1/2 the students at the 'new' college compared to his 'old' college.

They have many more luxuries on campus that the boy didn't experience at the 'old' college, such as: free laundry (no more quarter collecting), breakfast in the cafeteria, and a free bicycle service for students without cars. 

The only thing that has him a bit apprehensive at this point are the first names of a couple of his roommates.  One is named Yoter, and the other one was blessed with the name of Yvegen.  (How do you pronounce that?  Yvegen?)

His two buddies (which are brothers) have been forewarned: "I might be seeing a lot of you two this semester.  Got an extra bed?"

All in all, the boy is very easy going, so he'll probably be fine.  It's become more of a joke amongst us rather than concern.  Somehow, the boy always manages!

The Fish Story!

My son came home last weekend, and brought one of his suitemates with him.  It was a wonderful visit.  The boy's friend, M, is such a great kid!  I can see why they are such great friends:)  He's from downstate, and he had never been to this area before.  So, of course, the boy became 'tourist guide' over the weekend, and showed him the sights.

They visited our local BassPro Shop.  If you've never been to a BassPro shop and get the opportunity to, don't miss out.  They are an awesome store.  We are fortunate that we have one about 10 miles from the house.  It's my hubby and son's favorite store.

They came home all excited and M was telling me all about the big fish tank and all the huge fish in it!  His eyes were lit up, and he was so enthused.  He was reminding me of a 10 year old, not a 20 year old! 

Then the boys went to cheer on our local high school football team at the Syracuse Dome, where they were playing the Sectional Final game.  They lost, but they can be proud of their season, and the way they played.  Go Warriors!

Next morning, two very tired young men dragged their sleepy heads out of bed, and went fishing.  They got skunked.  (In case you're not familiar with fishing verbiage, 'skunked' means they didn't catch a thing).  In fact, they didn't even get a bite!  They were discouraged, but had decided to give themselves another go of it the next day.

Sunday afternoon the boys were prepared to get skunked again, but alas, their fortune was a complete turn around from the day before.

M caught this beauty of a large mouth bass.  He was 5.7 pounds, and 20 1/2 inches long!  What a beauty!  He posed for me to get a picture for my blog.  He was quite touched that I wanted to post it on my blog.  He must not totally understand the low readership of my blog, because he said he felt like a celebrity!  Sorry, M, not to trounce on your beloved dreams, but my readership isn't quite the celebrity status....yet!

Oh, yeah, the picture!

Ain't it a beauty?

Oh, please don't mind my totally un-remodeled kitchen! It's just one of those things that we've never quite gotten to, since I always seem to be using it!

 

Speaking of cooking - M is such a nice kid, that he not only thanked me once, nor twice, but something close to 3 or 4 times for the dinners that I cooked while he was here.  I laughed and told the boys that the college food must be pretty bad!  They enthusiastically agreed!

All in all it was a beautiful weekend.  And M, come back and see us any time!  We loved having you! 

Can You Pick Out The Boy?

Hubby and I think he's the one in the 4th row, all the way over in the last seat on the right-hand side.  You can click the picture to slightly enlarge it.  What do you think?

Funny Halloween Stories!

I'm not the biggest fan when it comes to Halloween.  I think maybe it's all those ghost and goblin stories that turn me off.  But with Halloween just around the corner, I got to thinking of some really funny things that have happened to me and my family on Halloween.

My husband worked nights for years, so I was the designated adult for all trick or treat outings.  When my son was around 8 years old, we were doing our neighborly outing.  We naturally went to one of our friend's houses around the corner.  We never strayed very far from home.

We approached the house across the dark, tree shadowed yard to climb the front porch leading to the door.  This house appeared as if it was a haunted house in respect to the worn, peeled paint on the old clapboards.  I think it might have had a few sagging shutters at the windows, too, which really made it look haunted.

My son had visited this house several times through the years, mainly due to the fact that they had a son that was just a year older than Bryce, and they were friends.  But I distinctly remember him say, "Gee, Mom, it looks like a real haunted house."

With the thoughts of ghosts and goblins and eerie things that go bump in the night, we proceeded to go up to the door.  Next to the door was an elaborate table laid out with all kinds of Halloween treats.  There were candy bars, bags of candy corn, and caramel apples on sticks which made a lovely display on the fall table-clothed, candlelit table.  A sign was displayed next to the table that read: "Please help yourself."

After encouraging my son to not be a pig and grab all that was in sight, we proceeded to turn around and descend the front porch stairway.  Upon arriving I had noticed on the trek up the stairway  that there was an old, battered, rather largely-stuffed scarecrow propped into a chair at the foot of the steps.  I hadn't paid much attention to it on the way up the steps, nor on the way down.

As my son and I proceeded to meander our way through the dark-shadowy, dreary lawn, we were suddenly pounced upon by the largely-stuffed scarecrow.  He jumped out of his seat, and screamed, "Bwaaaah, ooh, I'm coming to get you."  Bryce and I grabbed each other and starting screaming.  Then we jumped up and down, and we screamed some more!

Finally, we realized that it was the owner of the home.  He had sat patiently in the chair, playing the part of old Mr. Scarecrow, waiting for the perfect moment to really scare the daylights out of us.  Well, he did!  We laughed about this for years and years.  I know he had been listening to all that Bryce and I had been saying on the way to the door, because he commented, "It really does look like an authentic haunted house, doesn't it?"  Ooops!  I hope I didn't say anything inappropriate before realizing he was there.  For the life of me, I can't remember anything else that we might have said while going up those porch steps, but it did make me a bit paranoid for awhile.

Another Halloween many years before the haunted house episode when I was younger, vainer, and very much into being a 'girl,' I was destined to wear the same costume for something like 10 years.  Well, maybe it wasn't 10 whole years, but it sure felt like it.  We lived in the country (I'm talking about backwoods here) when I was a kid.  Our nearest neighbor was over a mile away, and that was by route of  'where the crow flies.'  In my childhood pea-brain the distance to our next neighbor by traveling roads was 'really far away.'

So, my mom always came home from work, plied us with soup from a can (to keep our little bones warm, because it's always cold on Halloween night in the great white north), and we donned our costumes, which usually was a mask, and a winter coat and gloves.  The easiest thing and the warmest alternative for me through the years was to wear this silly Martian mask.  That's it!  Well, that's almost it.  I had to wear my winter coat, gloves, and a few years it was so cold, I remember wearing my snow pants.  I tell ya, I was deprived (just kidding, not really deprived, but I was envious).  I was envious of all the little girls who wore Cinderella or Snow White costumes.  But I always had to wear the Mr. Martian mask!

One year, my 'really far away' neighbor (who also was a great seamstress) told my mom that she would sew me a Little Bo Peep costume.  It was awesome, cute, girly-girl, and perfect!!!  I anxiously awaited for her to finish the full hoop skirt with beautifully embroidered bodice.  It fit perfectly!  I was feeling quite proud of my Little Bo Peep costume!  I remember my mom getting me a big ribbon for my hair.  I remember the shepherd's crook that my mother found for me to prod my little Peep home.

This particular year my father was in the hospital, so my mom had made special arrangements with our other 'really far away' neighbor to take my two brothers and I along with her group of Halloweeners.  Her group of Halloweeners (I'm not even sure if that's a real word) was huge by my standards.  There were her four children, my brothers, and I, and a few other kids from church.  This neighbor decided to take us all to the small, tiny village that was nearby.  It was almost the size of a city in my mind, but as a grown up, I realize it had all of 30 residents.

We went through the tiny village in our large group, knocking on doors, screaming, "Trick or Treat", and opening our bags at the door to receive our goodies.  I was one of the smallest children, along with my younger brother, Johnnie.  I was always a doting mother hen to my little brother, Johnnie, and this particular Halloween night was no different.  Because we were so tiny, we kept getting pushed to the back of the large group of kids when we arrived at a welcoming home.  We were at the back of the line once again at an elderly lady's house, and of course, she noticed my cute little costume and was admiring it.

I pirouetted and pranced around on her front porch for quite some time showing off how my full hoop skirt swayed while I moved.  Oh, I was eating up all the attention that this old lady had shown me.  After receiving my candy, I started down the steps to the roadway.  I came to a complete halt.  No one and I mean, NO ONE of my group was anywhere to be seen.  I looked up and down the street.  I looked over at the little village store, and passing cars.  No one I knew!  I sat down on that little old lady's porch and cried.  And what about Johnnie?  He was nowhere to be seen either.

The kind, sweet, rickety, old lady sat down on the porch with me, and said, "There, there, what's your name?"  I told her, and of course, since we lived in such a little, tiny backwoods, she knew my parents.  She took me into her house, called my mother (who happened to be just arriving home from visiting my dad in the hospital), and mom came to pick me up.

What did I learn from that whole experience?  Well, mostly I learned to never like Halloween, but I also learned that my vanity put me into a beautiful, gorgeous Halloween costume that all of about 3 people got to see, because my mother promptly came and got me, and off to bed I went!

The following year, I had outgrown the Little Bo Peep costume.  I was back to being Mr. Martian!

Clueless and Blogless!

It's been a long time since I've posted anything new!  I am just clueless as to what to blog about.  Maybe someone can give me some suggestions!?!

Anyway, another Monday Night Football game.  No, not the one on television, but the one in Buffalo.

Hubby and I drove to Buffalo to watch the boy play.

They won!  The score was 21 - 13.  Go Bengals!

I took lots of pics!

Here's one right before the team took the field.  The boy is #17!!!

Here's another one after taking the field, but right before the kickoff!

During the game, the boy did very well....Here's a picture of him jumping really, really high.  I'm not sure if he tapped that ball or not!  If he didn't, it was close!

Then, he almost had an interceptions.  By the way, the opponent didn't complete the pass.

Since the boy only plays defense (which is odd, because he didn't play a lot of defense in high school) when the offense is on the field, he's doing this.

Then, here's after the game.

Yes, Amy, I did the 'good mother' thing and fixed dinner for his entire suite, all six of them, with paper plates and plastic silverware included.  He couldn't wait to get up to his room with THAT package.

It was great to see him, and even better to see his team win!

Game Day!

Monday evening my hubby and I drove almost 2 1/2 hours to go watch my son play in a college football game.

How does the team travel, you ask?

I know, it's not the greatest of pictures, but it was the best one I got.  That smoke is the exhaust that was coming out of the back end of that monster.  Yeah, a lot of smoke!

So as I was about to faint from the diesel fumes, I decided to walk around to the side of the bus and got a picture of where they put all the football gear.

A lot of smelly, dirty football gear could fit down there.  As you might be able to tell there wasn't too much in there when I snapped the picture, but there was all the team gear and the individual gear of about 40 - 50 boys in the storage area.  Not all of the boys had come out of the locker room yet, so that was only part of the team's gear.

Wanna see what a smelly, Mohawk-cut, football player looks like coming off the field at the end of the game?

No, that's not hubby and I!  That's friends of ours from our little Po'dunkville who have a son who played on the opposing team.

See those football pants?

That's medical tape wrapped around the knees.  They were too big and baggy to stay up, so the boy just taped them up in place.  Comical!

Hubby said, "Bryce, tell your coach I pay way too much money for you to attend Buff State and be given those raggy pants."  Of course, we all laughed!

Anyway, the boy played the entire game.  He played well, but they lost.

Right as he was getting ready to jump on the bus back to Buffalo, I gave him a bagged lunch.   He hugged me and said, "Mom, you always think of everything.  I'm starved!"

I guess he had to fight off all his teammates as they were starved, but he was a rather selfish boy, and didn't share!

I Wanted a Picture!

The boy came home on Friday afternoon and we just returned him back to college this evening.

Can I say I miss him very much???

Okay, I miss him very much!

Hubby and I were going to go get him at college after work on Friday evening.  I totally dislike driving to Buffalo after a day of work, but oh, well, I wanted to see my boy!

Ten minutes after I walked in the door on Friday after a rough and tough week at the elementary school (and a full week it was as it was the first week of having the kiddos back in the building), I got a phone call.

It was a great phone call.  I had just put on a pot of coffee and figured that DH and I would share that pot of coffee before making the 4 hour round trip.  But, alas, the phone rang and it was the boy saying, "You don't need to come pick me up."

What?  Am I dreaming?

Apparently, the boy's best friend, J, drove to Buffalo and was at the dorm to bring him home as we were speaking.

When they got home, I had J's favorite meal prepared.  I figured he really earned it.  But before the boys got into the house, I got staring at my son's hair and thinking, "What did he do?  His hair looks different!"

He spoke up and said, "How do you like my Mohawk?"

I almost fell down in the driveway (I was in the driveway, because I always run out and kiss and hug and kiss and hug him, until he says, "Aw, mom!"). 

This is the boy that when the entire high school basketball team got a Mohawk, he wouldn't.  This is the boy that when almost all the boys in his class got Mohawks just a few weeks shy of graduation, he wouldn't.

Well, I really got a good laugh, because DS keeps his hair so extremely short (think buzz cut) that there was a hardly discernible tuff of hair on the tippy top of his head.

I really wanted a picture, but every time I got the camera out this weekend, he ran, he ducked, he covered the lens.

I wanted a picture, but instead I got pictures of the walls of my living room, the clear blue sky, and the palm of his hand.

I really wanted that picture!

Pray for My Boy!

My son arrived on campus for his new year of Football Camp on Friday. All athletes must have a physical for the upcoming sporting season by the campus doctor.

Unfortunately, the doctor heard a slight heart murmur. She told my son that it would be a good idea to have it 'checked out.' We've been down this road before, and the pediatric heart specialist could never 'find' the murmur. Hmmmm!

The physician told the boy that he could practice. He asked! I know, he asked, because he wanted to be absolutely sure that there was no problem with him practicing. After all that's why he had to return 2 weeks before all the other students need to for classes....it's football time.

The doctor told him that it could be as simple as he's in great shape, etc., etc., yadda, yadda! She just wants to be sure. I agree!

Well, apparently it's not football time *yet* for my son. Even though the doctor told him that he could practice, she made the big, huge mistake of not putting it in writing. She 'verbally' told him that he could practice unless a doctor told him that he couldn't.

The doctor set up an appointment for him with a local doctor that is 20 minutes away from campus. Unfortunately, sophomores cannot have vehicles, so my son has no idea how he's supposed to get there with no car and no familiarity with the area that they have made the appointment.

So, after 3 days of strenuous testing and practicing, the football trainer decided to contact the health center at the college and see if there was anything in writing saying that my son could practice. You got it! There was nothing in writing. Hence, he's been benched until they have something in writing. Nothing in writing = no practice!

The doctor will be on campus again on Thursday afternoon. Once they have something from her in writing, he can practice. He begged someone to possibly call the doctor at home, but no, they won't do that!

So, he's been donning a yellow jersey (benched) and will be sitting on the sidelines until at least Thursday. He's so disappointed as he had a position secured so far on the team, and he's so afraid that he might lose it since he can't practice for 2 1/2 - 3 days.

Also, he knows that on late Thursday he may get permission to practice, but Friday is the day that they scheduled the doctor's appointment in Tinbucktoo. So, he knows he'll miss that day of practice also!

I know that he isn't at college to just play football, but football is his passion. Believe me, he's a much better baseball player than he ever was a football player, but football is his passion!!! He also works out and trains 12 months per year...... because well, he loves it!

If you feel inclined, please pray that my son can endure this waiting period, and that he gets a clean bill of health.

I Love a Good Deal!

I love it when my 19 year old son comes up to me with a rather sheepish look and says, "Mom, can I ask a favor?"

That's exactly what he did last night!

Guess who's doing my laundry for a whole week!

You didn't think I'd do a favor for him for nothing, did you?

I laughed so hard this evening, when he ran home from work, gobbled his dinner, said he had to call his friend, J, to go fishing.

I heard on this end of the phone conversation, "I'll come get you in about 10 minutes, as soon as I'm done throwing in a load of laundry!"

Can you tell that I'm loving this?!!

The Wave!

The elementary school which I work at has a wonderfully rich tradition that takes place the very last minute of the very last school day of the school year. Since next Tuesday is the 'Wave Day', I thought I would share!

The Wave is when every single staff member (and I mean every single one of them) gathers around the driveway of the bus circle. We wait until the buses start to pull away, and we wave to all the lovely little darlings that we won't see again until September.

Some years The Wave is full of laughter and joking and joshing and singing. For example, a few years back as the buses were pulling away from the school, the staff members all started singing that wonderul Banarama song "Na, na, na, na, hey, hey, goodbye." Remember that song! It stuck in my head for three whole days after the last day of school that year. We were all singing it 'round the clock with huge grins on our faces.

One year, as we were all waving goodbye, and the kids were all looking out the bus windows, and the bus drivers were honking their horns to beat the band; we all noticed that the kids were like dominoes dropping down into their seats and crying. Aaaah, that must have been a good year! None of them wanted to leave for the summer. I can tell ya, that year we didn't sing the Banarama song. We all went back into the building (because we still had another 1/2 day to work) and we were clearing our throats and wiping the tears from our eyes.

Last year, Kathy (my co-worker) started a chant of "Give me an S." Of course, we all echoed, "S." Then it was, "Give me a U, Give me an M, Give me another M, give me an E, give me an R. What's it spell? SUMMER!" Of course, you may think that it's odd for a grown woman to lead the superintendent, the principal, the teachers, and the rest of the elementary school staff in a cheer of "Summer, " but you must understand that Kathy is a retired cheerleading coach. I guess it just comes natural to her.

I eagerly await Tuesday. It's been a long, hard year. I can only wonder what this year will bring when we all line up to do The Wave!

My Son the Fisherman!

Arising from my slumber this morning, I decided to take my domestic calling very seriously; and I went to the freezer to retrieve something, anything to thaw for dinner.

Upon opening the freezer door, I thought, "Hmmm, who put the orange Kinney's bag in the freezer?"

Yawn!

I opened the bag to discover this....this staring out at me!

YIKES!

So, upon seeing my son later today, I asked what might that be!

"Well, J and I went fishing. We got back late...after 11:00. You and dad were sleeping. We hadn't cleaned this beautiful fish! So, we popped it in the freezer."

Mr. Fish is now cuddled within his orange Kinney bag nestled in my kitchen sink. Defrosting! So the boy can gut and clean him later!

Joy!

School's NOT Out Yet!

Can you believe it?

I've always known that our lovely state is the ONLY one that attends school during the month of June, but really! I'm starting to feel it this year. We will be attending school this particular year until June 23rd!

Whoa Nelly! I know! I know! Isn't that late?

Right now most of the kids have mentally checked out. The office (where I work) has a revolving door for the misbehaved. We have 5 little designated areas where we can 'hold' the bad behaviors. Recently, we've been finding that the 5 little designated areas aren't enough. We need an overflow room!

I think some of the teachers are ready to check out too. Students have been sent to the office for tiny infractions, but I assume the teachers are starting to feel the weariness of the school year, most especially when the temps are starting to get up near the 80's. The rooms feel like stuffy, little cubicles.

I remember while growing up and being in school during the month of June! It felt like you were breathing everyone else's air! Ugh! That's what this week has felt like!

Recently in the office, we've attended to a habitual screamer, a dirty talker, a toilet plugger, and two boys who are friends that were throwing food in the cafeteria at each other. Every single one of those students was a boy! Imagine that!

We have a boy who has a broken ankle. We have another boy who has a broken femur. Yikes! Boys and springtime/summertime! Now, I'm not bashing boys, I have one myself, thank you very much! They are just.....well.....more active, more troublesome, in some respects.

I really shouldn't complain! No, we could be dealing with drugs, knives, beatings, or other such things.

But all in all, June 23rd can't come quick enough. My solution would be to X out the whole month of June on the school calendar, but I guess the state doesn't see it that way! So, we have 10 days left and I'm most certainly counting!

Transitioning!

My son has been home exactly one whole day. Things are so different around the house!

We're going through a little transitioning period.

The basement floor next to my washer and dryer has my son's entire college wardrobe sitting in baskets and trash bags. Yup, it's the true Mt. Laundry. I don't think I've done that much laundry in total for hubby and I since he went to college in August.

Guess what MY SON is going to be doing this weekend?

I also came home from work to the television set on, but no one sitting in the room to watch.

I also came home and kicked up my feet for a few minutes and the boy came in and said, "What's for dinner?"

I reached into the crevices of my fried brain and replied, "Oh, I thought we'd have some of those perch that you caught and put in the freezer during your winter break."

As I sat contemplating what side dishes I would make to go with the fish (I don't always plan ahead too well), I heard pots, pans, and dishes being banged around in the kitchen. I pulled my tired, aching bones up from the couch, walked to the kitchen to find my son amongst 3 times the amount of cookware that I would be using to make dinner.

He smiled and said, "Mom, go relax, I'll get dinner on the table."

Can you tell why I love that boy so much?

What Kind of Mom Am I?

Okay, my son is grown, pretty much, but I thought this would be fun.

When I was in college no one had heard of the mosh pit before. So, I don't know what this all means, but yeah, I kind of want to re-take it and lie.

If you want to take the test, please Click here.


And I also remember the boy not liking McDonald's birthday parties, because he didn't like the food....But, he's left that all behind. He loves McDonald's now! Does that count for anything?

Results: Mosh-Pit Mama

(I want to take it again and this time lie…)

We know you're confused. But admit it, in college you did love the concert mosh pit, right? You're just a little nutty like that. You are a complex mama. You can't be pushed around by your kids, and you make sure they are fed the best organic food and get to bed on time. But, you are also able to chill out and let the little punks monkey around and get messy. You also don't mind getting messy with them. You're tons of fun: you throw yourself into kids play with great passion! Forts, crafts, soccer games, you do it all! It's hard to find fault with your type (unless your kid insists on Organic vegetables while at a playdate and is labeled "snooty") so please be prepared to have friends begin to hate you or exhibit extreme jealousy. Enjoy!